


stuck in the middle with you

by BookFangirlMaryJane



Series: TARDIS Advent Calendar Prompts [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Kissing, Light Angst, Mistletoe, Post-Episode: s12e10 The Timeless Children, Post-Prison, Spoilers, TARDIS Advent Calendar, he just wants to kiss the Doctor, the Master has no evil plan here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:09:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookFangirlMaryJane/pseuds/BookFangirlMaryJane
Summary: The Doctor steps out of her TARDIS and runs face-first into a force field. It takes her a bit to realize that the mistletoe taped over the door might have something to do with that.--o--TARDIS Advent Calendar (by Valc0), prompt for today is 'Someone taped mistletoe on top of the TARDIS entrance and nobody knows who'.Version 2.Warnings: spoilers for series 12. Also slight angst
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Series: TARDIS Advent Calendar Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041429
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45





	stuck in the middle with you

**Author's Note:**

> Aaand here's version number two.
> 
> This is angstier but also with more kissing and actual Thoschei, so...  
> Sorry? You're welcome? Both?  
> Both is good.
> 
> Spoilers for series 12.

The Doctor steps out of her TARDIS and immediately runs face-first into a force field. With a yelp she stumbles back, right into another force field that has appeared behind her. A horribly foreboding feeling settles in her stomach. When she reaches out, her hands meet crackling energy all around her. She’s stuck. Stuck in the doorway of her TARDIS, for no reason.

It takes her five minutes to find the mistletoe taped on top of the entrance, mostly because she fights to stay calm and not panic at being trapped like this ( ~~again~~ ). Incredulous, she stares up at the little plant. That can’t be it. It just **can’t**.

But, well, isn't there this old Earth tradition of having to kiss under a mistletoe?

She looks around the barren surface of the junk planet she’s landed on with pursed lips. There’s no one in sight anywhere. Which had rather been the point. She didn’t want to be interrupted when looking for spare parts for TARDIS repairs.

Of course, that attitude has permanently stranded her in-between her TARDIS and this planet, imprisoned, with no hope for escape. How the hell did this happen, anyway?!

The Doctor tries to remember when she last stepped through the doors, when someone could have had the chance to do this.

She got several calls for help and didn’t have anything better to do than answer them. On her own, without the fam. They’re on Earth. She doesn’t think she should go back for them, she doesn’t think she **can** , not yet. Besides, those calls came from planets further away than she’s been with them, with actual danger. One of them had an atmosphere toxic to humans, of course she took care of that on her own.

But she doesn’t remember anything standing out, staying anywhere for too long, any suspicious people who could be responsible for this. Great.

With a determined expression, she raises her sonic and points it right at the mistletoe. “Well, then, let’s get you shut off.”

**—o—**

Forty minutes later, the Doctor admits defeat and settles on the doorstep with a trembling sigh. Nothing she tried has worked. Not sonicing the force field, not sonicing the mistletoe, not even trying to get the stupid plant off the door. It’s stuck up there. She’d need some sort of acid to get it off, or a very strong dissolver.

Stuck as she is, those things are rather hard to come by, of course. And she can’t even call anyone so they can come and help her! Her fam is on Earth, safe, and she is here, on some far-off junk planet. No one will come for her. She’s trapped. It feels horrible.

The Doctor takes several deep breaths, hopes the fresh air will help calm her. No fresh air in prison, only stale, stagnant space. No company, though, the way it is right now. No one to talk to but herself, no one to contact, no one to help. Without her sonic and her phone, of course there was no one she could have reached. And now? Everyone she knows is out of reach.

No, hang on, that’s not true, is it? There is **one** person she can call, and she can’t believe she’s even thinking about actually doing this, but the choice is asking him for help or staying trapped like this, which really isn't much of a choice.

The Doctor pulls out her phone and scrolls down to his number. Takes a deep breath. Dials.

_Beep, beep, beep._

**Crack.**

“Doctor, what a surprise.”

He sounds completely unsurprised that she is calling.

Oh, that **bastard**. He knew she would call. So that makes this…

“Did you do this?” she asks, voice tight with suppressed anger. Her hand curls into a fist and she fights the urge to slam it against the TARDIS door, or maybe the force field, watch it spark blue and fizzle around her skin.

“Do what? Did something **happen** , Doctor?” he asks with faux-concern.

She snarls and snaps: “You know what, forget it. I’m hanging up.”

Before she can do so, he calls out: “Tell me where you are and I’ll get you out of it.”

For a moment, the Doctor stares at her phone. She contemplates hanging up out of pure spite. It would piss him off to no end.

But on the other hand, the thought of staying like this any longer makes her skin crawl. She hates it. And on top of that, it started darkening about ten minutes ago, and everyone knows that junk planets are best avoided at night, if you don’t want to get robbed or eaten.

“Seffilun 59,” she admits. “I was looking for parts. The front doors need reinforcing.” She pauses. “If you could hurry up, it’s already getting dark.” _And I’m only barely winning the fight against my newfound claustrophobia_ , she doesn’t say.

The Master huffs on the other side of the line. “Why didn’t you call earlier, then? And really, you get your spare parts from junk planets? No wonder your TARDIS is so unreliable.”

“Oi, I’ll have you know she’s incredibly reliable!” the Doctor calls out, glad to focus on something (anything) else than this cage around her. “Just because she has a mind of her own doesn’t mean she’s not reliable. And anyway, where else am I supposed to get the parts? There’s not exactly a market for TARDIS parts.”

“But **junk**? At least get your parts from an actual mechanic, Doctor. I won’t come to your rescue if your ship falls apart one day because you insist on being cheap and an idiot.”

She sighs and clambers to her feet as the Master’s TARDIS fades into existence before her. Underneath her, actually, she notes. He parks in such a way that her own TARDIS now stands on his porch.

“She won’t. I know my old girl, and she’s never gonna fall apart. And I’m not cheap.”

He steps out of his TARDIS and they simultaneously hang up their phones. “You are an idiot, though, given the situation you’re stuck in right now.”

The Doctor glares at him. “You mean the situation you **got** me stuck in, right? Because this has your name written all over it.”

When the Master throws her a grin, she crosses her arms and enhances her glare, tries to hide how anxious she is to get this stupid force field down.

“Oh, come on, luv. At least appreciate it? I managed to trap you!”

He steps up to her and through the force field. It flares up behind him and the Doctor raises a brow as he comes even closer.

“And now you’re getting me out of the trap again. Very clever, really.” She glances at the mistletoe hanging over their heads. “Since when do you take human traditions serious anyway?”

His lips pull into a grin. “Oh, I don’t. Only those that benefit me.”

She doesn’t fight him when he tips her chin up to press his lips against hers. Instead, she grabs hold of his collar and pulls him closer. Distantly, she notes that the force field dissipates around them, and her hearts instantly feel lighter, but she really doesn’t care about that right now.

All she cares about is him.

His lips against hers, his hands, one on her waist, the other buried in her hair, his chest pressed to hers, his hearts beating in perfect synchrony with her own, his mind gently brushing hers…

With a gasp, the Doctor pulls away, resting a hand on his chest.

The Master looks down at her, something between a smile and a grin on his lips. “So, Doctor. All alone in your TARDIS? That’s very unlike you.”

Her hearts clench and she looks away. “Yeah, well.” She pulls back and leans against the TARDIS doorway, tugging on her sleeve. “Not quite sure what is and isn't like me anymore…” After Ruth, after the Timeless Child, she doesn’t know who she is anymore. And all those years of thinking about it in prison haven't helped her, either.

With a helpless laugh, the Doctor wipes a hand over her face. “Doesn’t matter.” She glances up at her oldest friend in the universe and gives him a tight smile. “What about you? Back to making my life miserable? Or is this a one-off because you just wanted to kiss me?”

He raises a brow. “You call this ‘making your life miserable’? It was barely a plan, Doctor.”

Damn. She averts her gaze and tries not to let on how horrible she felt, stuck like this, no way out, no escape… A hand gently cups her chin and he turns her head so she has to look at him. He’s frowning at her.

“Don’t like to be trapped,” she mutters when he doesn’t stop staring. “Like, really don’t like it. Hate it.” _Fear it._

The hand drops from her face and she immediately misses the touch.

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I capture you, then, Doctor,” the Master says, and while his words sound like a mockery, his voice is far too gentle for that. He means it.

Oh, she can’t help it. Only a step separates the two of them, and the Doctor closes the gap to kiss him again, pushes him back against the TARDIS and cups his cheeks with both her hands. This kiss is even sweeter than the first, gentle and soft and so, so lovely that she can’t get enough of it.

The Master’s hand is back on her waist, the other hand carding through her hair, cradling her head. She loves it. She loves it. ~~She loves him~~.

When they pull apart this time, there is a gentleness in his eyes that the Doctor hasn’t seen in a very long time. His hand slowly cups her cheek and he gazes at her, eyes so soft she feels herself drowning in them.

“Next time you want to kiss me, just call, yeah?” she finds herself whispering, a little smile on her lips. “I promise I’ll answer.” She’s always going to answer.

He chuckles. “I’ll remember that.” One hand, the one that isn't on her cheek, reaches up to rip the mistletoe off the door. When the Doctor gapes at it, he rolls his eyes and pockets it.

“Telepathic force field, Doctor. Connected to the mistletoe bindings. We kissed, so now it can be removed.”

Clever. Annoying, of course, but very clever.

The Master grins at her, leans in to give her another kiss, this time just on the cheek, and then he steps back. “Now, then. I suggest we both take off now.” Right. Right, junk planet. And it’s completely dark by now. How did she not notice that before?

“You’re right, that’s a good plan,” the Doctor nods, stepping back into her TARDIS but stilling in the doorway. (She makes sure to stand an inch over the previous line of the force field, just to make sure.) With a quirked smile, she looks at the Master, standing in his own doorway.

“The question is: where are you going? And can I come?”

** The End **

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is really mostly self-indulgent.  
> I couldn't help it, sorry.  
> Seriously, though, 90% of my Doctor Who writing is Thoschei, and the 10% that are left are only NOT Thoschei because the Master isn't in it... Oops.
> 
> I'll probably write something for the 6th, because I want my Time Lords to get drunk off their asses, and gingerbread is the best thing ever for that.
> 
> Have a lovely day/night!


End file.
